Hourglass
by Draconicality
Summary: A series of drabbles; tiny things that might have been or were never brought to light. [five: Xenogears; a tribute to Citan Uzuki.]
1. Chains

**Chains **

There is a missing link. There has always been a missing link.

Unlike his two brothers, Nigredo has no anchor. They are tempered fury contained by accident into two separate bodies; _hanshin _of rage that periodically flare with the unison they need sometimes, even if it is only in the language of fists. His lips purse whenever he considers the two of them, like the core of a world. Rubedo is pure blood-crimson heat, the one who destroys yet unites others, as metals are fused in the forge; Albedo the white heart-fire burning so intensely at the center that it has grown cold. They belong to each other. They _belong. _Not so, him.

666. 667. 669. Like a missing star in a familiar constellation; a skipped heartbeat in a human's life. He had thought for the longest time that the missing one had been a mistake, and anomaly perhaps - termination? No. He should have remembered that here, the mistakes are kept and urged to grow, if only for more data to add to the successes.

The girl - he will not think of her as sister - is alien to him, wrong, the contours of her mind too strange for his. She is lightningspark to his night-cat thoughts, like the breath of something hot and alien and utterly deadly just brushing, enough for him to know she is there...and that is already too much. He will not know her as he might have known the one who should be her; the nameless child of the bright golden hair who could have been more than a dream long before Nigredo himself was born/made.

That one would have been as close to him as he is to himself, yet somehow endangered them all with his brilliance, he knows without asking why. Even if that is truer that anything Nigredo still regrets when he sees the not-quite-true 668, different and distant with her hair like a dying sun. Not fair. No other possible way, but. But.

Because "might" will never "be," he is as shadows to the bright fire of his brothers instead, and it is almost enough.

* * *

_A/N: 350 words. Hanshin "other half." You have no idea how unnerving it was to find out that 668 was female..._


	2. As Ants We Toil

**As Ants We Toil**

_(we)_ were never made to be as perfect as the Trinity, and even _(They)_ are not perfect when _(They)_ are not united. The Dragon belongs to the Moon belongs to the Night, and dissonance between _(Them)_ for lack of the completing Sun is the only time when _(we) _can understand the thinnest edges of _(Their)_ god-thoughts and _(Their)_ fragmented blinding brightness.

_(we)_ were made to give pain, and so when _(They)_ are vulnerable in this way _(we)_ give _(Them)_ as much as _(we)_ are able. It is not very much because the Trinity feeds on each other's pain as much as _(we)_ do and yet _(They)_ may change so that what used to be painful to _(Them)_ is no longer so. _(we)_ are not _(Them.)_ _(we)_ do not have this ability. _(we)_ do not find it so easy, learning new ways to bring pain. All too often_ (we)_ are easily broken and flung aside that _(They)_ may live, before _(we)_ can.

But resentment is not a part of _(our) _programming. Loyalty is. There is a tiny ravening beast that hooks its claws into _(our no my mine alone only thing that is i/we think) _spine and has beaten itself senseless and screaming time after time immemorial; it has not yet broken that. It cannot. The strength of will that feeds it is a weak thing, bred out of _(our) _cell culture when the Makers saw that it was one of the Trinity's most powerful, dangerous flaws.

_(we)_ run. _(we)_ hide. _(we)_ shoot. _(we)_ fight and kill and scream in _(our)_ conjoined manyone-mind. _(we)_ will follow the power that was stolen from _(us) _and placed into three that deserved it not, and in that way _(we)_ will live on. For _(They)_ are a part of _(us)_ and _(we)_ are a part of _(Them), _and in that way which is not fair _(All)_ are each other.

That is the Law, and that is why even _(we)_ with our dull perfection know that one day, _(we)_ will lose the Trinity that makes _(us)_ one and apart, and run _(our)_selves into the neverending broken of black dead madness. Because _(we)_ who no longer have the minds of _(Them)_ were born to that. _(we)_ hurt them but _(All)_ blame the Makers because they Chose and Made _(All.)_

_(we)_ look forward to it, and breaking free, and being wholly _(i)_ for the first and last time.

* * *

_A/N: 400 words. Someone had to do a piece for one of the ordinary unnamed URTVs sooner or later. Hope this particular piece wasn't too confusing, but with all those weird pronouns you never know...based entirely on a handful of XenoII's cutscenes, so please forgive any errors. Thanks to those who reviewed the first one, too:)_


	3. Winter

_Warning: Doot doot. Mentions of yaoi and, well, sex. Please hit the back button if you don't like that sort of thing._

* * *

**Winter**

He doesn't know how it begins, but once it does, he accepts it without his usual constant questioning. There are lives and powers unimaginable at stake here, dancing the thin silver line between bad and worse, and when something so simple as _sex_ may tip it in his favor, he does so without hesitation. It is not attraction exactly, but at the same time more than business, something to be pondered later on in private.

In bed, he is Nigredo just as much as he is Gaignun, because he is not required to manipulate and hypnotize; not required to think. Under kisses and touches that go from soft teasing to firmer confidence, both mindsets meld and open themselves to pleasure, to the purity of laying back, giving up control and letting himself feel.

The links are closed. He does not want his brothers playing voyeur, after all.

Cool hands dance their way down his chest, his stomach, unclothed, the black suit stripped away like so much armor and the man/machine underneath laid out for one being in all the worlds to see. A moan of protest-pleasure escapes his lips - he has not been this vulnerable for a long, long time.

"You know too much," he manages, with only a part of his usual smoothness, and the other figure (dark but not as dark as he is, even here) voices a chuckle.

"Would you have it any other way?"

Gaignun says nothing, and allows himself, just this once, to fold.

* * *

_A/N: 250 words, and a cookie if you guess who the pairing is. D Not really canon, but I had to write it. -laughter- To reviewers: I feel very flattered that my little fantasy-world ramblings are getting such positive feedback! Thank you all!_


	4. Old Stains

**Old Stains**

_(br/other)_

Good afternoon, Rubedo. It is afternoon, yes? The Song won't let me know, every day and every night is cold and white and bittersharp as Gnosis hunger/pleasure. It doesn't matter. I do believe you'll like the winter so—heehee, am I foreshadowing you? Or backshadowing you? No, that's Nigredo's job, beware, beware!

Come out to finish playing our game of cat and mouse at last? But so many mice here…rodents, all. _Really, _I thought you'd have better taste than that! All but _ma peche _cluelessly dancing on their strings – ah, look how she pays her silent homage to you with those outward eyes of hers, my mechanical ephemeral angel. So ironic that you would fill every wound I tear in your heart with she who hurts you most to know, and add to MY glory.

But she sees—she sees too, through your rage, the rose-tinted veil burned away! We are the ultimate monsters, you and I, we can taint her together. I'm sure she won't mind—or won't care anyway, once we're through.

Look upon me, red dragon of perfection, with your once-spread wings shorn away. You're still trying so hard to fly without them; painfully delicious to watch! Keep roaring, consume me in the fire of worlds that the Son of God might rise…am I to be thy phoenix? The brightest stars see death the quickest, but neither of us shall find a place to lay our heads and sleep: it's so boring anyway when all your dreams come true.

What is it like to stay a fledgling, Rubedo my br/other?If you hadn't—traitor, traitor, rusting the chains away to leave me—to _leave ME! _then should I have worried so?

Sins will out to be redeemed…does this frighten you, beloved murderer mine, when I show you my cloak of shadow and offer you its warmth? Good. Spurn me, shun me, but you will heed the call (they all will, the foolish little creatures drawn to your flame to die in a pitiful blaze.)

I'll be waiting.

_(so soar on thy birthright and find me again.)_

* * *

_350 words. My keyboard won't produce the proper form of 'peche,' and I can only write Albedo when I'm heavily drugged with asthma and flu meds. What's THAT supposed to say? __This one's much rougher around the edges, being a literary experiment of sorts, so I apologize for the clipped tone of Albedo's stream-of-consciousness. _

_Thanks again for the comments, y'all (and cookies to Whispers of a Ghost and Tala1 for correctly guessing that 'Winter' was a Gaignun x Jin...say, wait a sec, Shanna, you didn't even have to guess, you already knew...bleh.)__Expect a few more drabbles, and some Xenogears pieces to be coming up as well! (Yes. I own that too. FEAR ME!)_


	5. Glow

**Glow**

_tell me a story  
__of the dreams you have tonight  
__the ones where paradise  
__is no farther away  
__than the feathers of the mind_

_tell me a story  
__of the one you would save  
__would kill  
__would love  
__would worship  
__under unforgiving eyes_

_tell me a story  
__ye angel of masks  
__with the strength to sin  
__that you would break not  
__the world  
__for the world is not your promise  
__or your smile_

_tell me a story  
__of abel and cain  
__of alpha and omega  
__in the cracks at the corners--  
__the taste of danger  
__that flaws us so  
__and makes you whole  
__in your addiction_

_tell me a story  
__of your own destruction._

* * *

_A/N: Didn't bother with a word count; poetry is its own thing. This is an image piece on Dr. Citan Uzuki of Xenogears. Great game, great character. I'm no great hand with poems, but this balked and clawed and flat-out refused to come out as a prose drabble. Oh well._

_Oh, no worries, Chaoslace, my head's stuck almost exclusively in the Suikoden and Xeno fandoms right now. I love 'em and I love writing for 'em!_


End file.
